


Valentine's Day Gift Collection

by renegadejaybird (vitious)



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Once Upon a Time (TV), Red Hood: Lost Days, Red Robin (Comics), Under the Red Hood, Young Avengers
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 14:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitious/pseuds/renegadejaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gifts given to some of the people I follow on tumblr for Valentine's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. JayDami

Damian hated holidays.  He found them to be a ridiculous waste of time and energy and, in general, tended to forget that they even existed.  Thus it was easy for Jason to surprise the younger man, something he’d wanted to do for a while but, honestly, he felt too awkward doing it ninety nine percent of the time.  However he’d been away for close to three months and, thus, wanted to surprise him in the simplest way possible.  
  
He jotted down a note, making sure it looked rushed, and placed a package next to it; Persian bath oils, which he knew Damian loved, to tempt him into the bathroom.  He felt nervous, especially considering that, well, the kid was significantly younger than him, barely eighteen, but they’d been together for almost four years… Cos that wasn’t awkward or anything.  When he’d first thought of the surprise he’d thought it had been a good idea, a good time, but was four years long enough?  Would Damian even like it?  Maybe he should just settle for making himself the surprise this year… Maybe next year.  
  
He paused on his way to the bathroom.  What if there wasn’t a next year though?  Jason was well-versed when it came to mortality, knew that just one slip of a hand, just one wrong move, and they could die.  They weren’t meta-humans, they could die just as well as any other human, and if one of them died before…  Heaving a sigh, Jason shook his head and entered the bathroom dismissing such thoughts, making sure to hang up his jacket and fold his clothes neatly as he stripped.  He hesitated before retrieving a box, taking the contents from inside and clasping them in his hand before moving to fill the tub. Damian would be home soon and he was part of the surprise.  
  
Jason climbed into the tub with a soft groan, tipping his head back and sighing softly in relief.  He’d taken a shower shortly after he’d returned, but the heat of the water was doing heavenly things to his tense muscles.  It was approximately ten minutes before Damian entered the bathroom, ten minutes of bliss before the click of the door opening made his stomach drop through the floor.  He did his best to just roll his head and smile, hoping it looked like his usual cocky smirk, noting the momentarily stunned look on his boyfriend’s face.   
  
“Hey.” He watched the surprise fade behind a familiar mask of neutrality as Damian dropped his coat to the floor.   
  
“Todd,” he breathed as he approached, moving to brace his knee on the tub as he reached out. He tangled his fingers in Jason’s hair and kissed him.  
  
It was a good, thorough kiss, languid and speaking volumes about how much he’d missed Jason’s attention, how much he’d craved it in the long months apart.  A kiss that was so slow and almost tender was rare between them, but it was easier than talking, easier than admitting that they’d missed each other aloud, so it worked for them.  When they finally broke the kiss it was so Damian could pull back and remove his shirt. He stripped incredibly quickly, impatient to join him in the bath.  Jason chuckled, watching the teenager strip and kick his clothing aside, climbing into the tub and moving to straddle him, their hips flush together yet, oddly, neither of them were hard; it had been a long time, but there was time for that later.  
  
“You returned early,” Damian mused, his eyes lowering, searching Jason’s torso for new scars. “It wasn’t a difficult mission?”  
  
“It was rough, but I managed,” he murmured before glancing aside, nerves clawing at his gut.  “Hey, I… I brought you back something else.  If you don’t want it, I’ll… understand.”  
  
Damian tilted his head slightly, curious, and arched a brow at him. “Why would I not want something that you gave me?”   
  
That made warmth flood Jason’s chest. “I… You’ll see.”  
  
Jason lifted his hand and curled his fist so only he could see, plucking one of the items from his palm and holding it out to Damian, swallowing thickly.  It was a simple black band with a stripe of gold down the middle, one that he’d found while overseas which had immediately made him think of Damian.  His lover stared at the ring, blinking slowly before he looked down at Jason’s other hand, noting that it was still curled, that Jason hadn’t lowered it.   
  
“There’s another in there, isn’t there?” he asked softly, his throat working as his gaze locked with Jason’s once more.   
  
Jason struggled not to look aside; this was horribly awkward and a little embarrassing. “I… Yeah, there’s one for me, too.”   
  
“You’re…” Damian’s cheeks darkened as he looked back to the ring, his hand lifting before he hesitated. “I need to be clear, Todd, so I do not make a fool of myself.  Are you—”   
  
“Yes, I’m proposing,” Jason blurted, forcing the words out before he began to babble nervously. “You don’t have to say yes, I just thought—”   
  
“Yes,” Damian interrupted, holding his hand out. “You’re an idiot for thinking I’d say otherwise.”  
  
Jason stared, stunned, for a long moment before letting out a huff of laughter, sliding the ring onto the teen’s finger. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  Brat.”   
  
Damian plucked the other ring from his hand and slid it on Jason’s hand, noting how they matched, Jason’s band silver with a gunmetal stripe. “Now that that is done, shall we enjoy our bath?”  
  
Jason couldn’t help but laugh, relieved and happy, and nodded. “Yeah.  Sounds good to me.”


	2. BruJay

Jason had been a ball of nervous energy all day.  It was one of those holidays that Dick often crooned about, Valentine’s day, but it hadn’t ever really made his stomach do flips before.  Maybe it was because he actually had a reason to celebrate it that year, actually had someone to spend time with, despite the fact that the day had barely begun.    
  
Bruce had gone out for a solo patrol that evening, stating that Jason needed the time to study and to go over a few lessons with Alfred.  Jason had reluctantly agreed, doing his best not to look horribly disappointed and to protest as little as possible so as to not make Bruce’s life difficult.  That hadn’t stopped his insides from squirming a little when his mentor smiled at him, looking proud, and ruffling his hair before heading into the cave.  Jason had been good that evening, had done what he’d been asked to do, minus the fact that he was supposed to be sleeping instead of sitting on a bench in the cave, waiting for Bruce to return.  
  
He perked immediately when he heard the roar of the Batmobile’s engine echo in the tunnel leading to the cave, hopping off the bench.  Jason’s hands flexed nervously at his sides, hoping that Bruce wouldn’t yell at him for being up so late and that patrol hadn’t been too rough on him.  When the top of the car slid open and Bruce hopped out, Jason relaxed a little only to tense when Batman approached him, cowl fierce and intimidating.  However Bruce seemed to hesitate and lift his hand to push it back, almost as if it had been an afterthought; he was far too attached to being the Bat.   
  
“H-hey, Boss.” he called out nervously, worrying his bottom lip. “U-um before you yell at me, I can explain—”   
  
“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” Bruce interjected, his tone unexpectedly amused.  
  
“I—Um.  Well, yeah.  But I just, well it’s _Valentine’s_ day and—um.” Jason faltered, cheeks flushing brightly.  
  
Bruce’s expression softened and he crouched, resting a hand on his Robin’s shoulder. “Couldn’t you have wished me a Happy Valentine’s tomorrow?”   
  
“I don’t want you to be alone today at all.” Jason mumbled, averting his eyes, the tips of his ears feeling hot.  
  
“Jason.” Bruce’s voice was soft, almost tender. “I—Thank you.”  
  
Jason blinked, his head turning a little, his gaze a little suspicious, before hesitantly smiling.  “Of course, B!  I mean, that’s what I’m here for, right?”  
  
Bruce’s expression sobered a little, surprise replacing happiness before he chuckled.  “I guess it has been like that recently, hasn’t it?”  
  
Reaching up, Jason clasped Bruce’s hand in both of his, offering him a roguish grin. “Now you’re stuck with me, Old Man.”  
  
“There’s worse fates.” Bruce mused, lips quirking a little.  
  
“Exactly.  Though I think we should wait for kissing til after you shower.” Jason grinned, looking pleased. “Don’t think you’re getting out of good foolin around time, though!”  
  
Chuckling, Bruce pushed himself back to his feet, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”   


	3. Ra'sTim

Tim was dressed elegantly but simply, wearing only a deep crimson vest and black slacks, neatly pressed and perfectly tailored.  He held two glasses of red wine, one of which he was sipping from, as he entered the dark office and approached the man who was sitting in an elegant office chair, his fingers steepled in front of his face, back to his desk, staring out the massive window that was behind it.  As quietly as possible Tim set the glasses on the desk, moving to stand next to the leather chair silently, following the other man’s gaze for a long moment until he was finally ready to speak.   
  
“I am so pleased that the Detective no longer has you in his grasp.” Ra’s murmured, turning his head, watching as the dark-haired teen canted his head to lock gazes with him, a silent question on his face. “Your skills were wasted on one simple city.”   
  
Tim’s brows lifted, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I do find myself being far more challenged here.”   
  
“There are other things you find here as well.” Ra’s mused, turning his chair, his hands moving to settle on the arms of it. “Are there not.”   
  
Tim’s eyes hood and he nods, stepping a little, reaching out to brace his hands on the back of the chair and leaning forward slightly. “…Yes.  To imagine that I denied all this for so long…”  
  
This was not the boy Ra’s had initially taken in, this was a man who had grown into his true self just shy of being twenty years of age. “You were a difficult catch that is certain.”  
  
“Worth it, I should hope.” Tim murmured, his thick lashes fluttering a little as Ra’s hands, freshly renewed in the Lazarus Pit, curled around his hips.  
  
“Very much so.” Ra’s breathed, gently tugging the younger man forward.   
  
Tim obeyed, slipping into the chair to straddle his lover, hands still on the back of the chair. “I’d be a tad put out if you said otherwise.”   
  
“Considering what you did the last time you were ‘put out’ I believe it wise for me to avoid such a situation.”   
  
Tim smirked in response, reaching for his glass that he’d set aside, taking a quick drink, before pressing his mouth to Ra’s.  It was a languid but thorough kiss, one that was accented with the flavors of the wine, one born of years of familiarity and hard-won trust.  Tim hummed softly in pleasure when the kiss broke, his eyes heavy-lidded and his hands roaming over Ra’s chest, simply touching because he could and intending to take full advantage of the privilege.   
  
“My favorite wine.  How generous of you.” Ra’s mused, his thumbs moving to gently stroke the sliver of skin exposed just above the waistband of Tim’s slacks.   
  
“It’s a good day to be generous.” Timothy mused, moving to tuck his head into the crook of Ra’s neck, letting out a pleased sigh when strong hands stroked over the line of his spine.  
  
“It is indeed a good day for that.” Ra’s mused, a slow smirk curving his lips; that day was the day he had defeated the Detective, the day that Tim had denied Gotham and had left with him.  
  
Ra’s felt Tim smirk against his neck and felt his own lips quirk. “Three years it’s been.  Perhaps it’s time to… Reaffirm our presence in Gotham.”   
  
Ra’s chuckled and nodded his head, one of his hands moving to card through Timothy’s hair. “I do so enjoy your ideas, my Detective.”


	4. BruJay

“Boss!”   
  
Bruce’s brows furrowed, head turning and hands pausing in their typing at the computer at the call.  Predictably Jason vaulted gracefully into the chair and into Bruce’s lap, causing the older man to heave an exasperated sigh, his hands moving to rest on the armrests of his chair.  Jason simply offered him a cheeky grin, settling so his small thighs bracketed Bruce’s, making himself comfortable.   
  
“Don’t give me that look, B-man.” Jason teased, smiling and tracing the bat symbol on Bruce’s chest. “You’ve been at this computer for _hours_.  C’mon!  You need a break, or sleep, or somethin’.”  
  
Bruce gave the boy a mildly annoyed look before sighing, looking from his ward’s face to the screen, then back again. “Jason, I have a lot of work to do—”   
  
“You’ve already _done_ a lot of work.  Do it tomorrow.” Jason muttered, brows furrowing a little, looking petulant.  
  
There was another long-suffering sigh from the older man as he fought with himself.  He knew he could stay up and finish the reports that night and still get sleep, could still get an adequate enough amount of rest, but when Jason was determined about something he could be just as stubborn as Bruce himself was.  Part of him was worried that he might even have been rubbing off on the boy in ways he didn’t exactly want.   
  
“Jason—” Bruce began, moving his hands to the boys small hips, preparing to lift him up and off his lap.   
  
“ _Please_ Boss?  Just tonight?” Jason pleaded, brows knitting together, obviously attempting to look as sad and pathetic as possible.   
  
It was probably more pathetic that it _worked_ , resulting in an exasperated sigh. “Fine.  Just tonight.”   
  
Jason let out a little whoop of triumph and planted a quick kiss on the older man’s cheek, wrapping his tiny arms around Bruce’s thick neck.  Caught off-guard, the older man lifted his hands, brows furrowing before hesitantly running a hand over his ward’s spine.  It was still strange to touch Jason like this, odd for the boy to be so casual about such intimate moments, but, then again, he supposed that perhaps that particular trait was what made them get along so well, a trait that Dick had possessed as well, thus providing a bit of familiarity.  
  
“If I’m going to bed, then so are you.” Bruce muttered, moving to gently disentangle the teen’s arms from his neck, something which proved fruitless. “…Jason, please let go.  I’m not carrying you upstairs.”   
  
“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” Jason murmured against his neck, his voice small and hesitant.   
  
“Jason, we talked about this—”   
  
“Please!  I won’t do anything!” Jason’s hold tightened a little, causing Bruce to sigh, his expression softening and resolve crumbling.   
  
“Alright.  Just tonight.” Bruce murmured, stroking Jason’s back again, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “I’m still not carrying you to bed.”   
  
Jason pulled back, offering his mentor a cheeky grin. “That’s okay Boss.  I think I can manage.”   
  
Bruce finally allowed himself to smile, shaking his head.  “I shouldn’t be rewarding your bad behavior.”   
  
“Just this once though, B-man?  You can spank me later.” With that Jason winked and slipped out of his arms, bolting for the stairs.   
  
“I can still revoke my decision, Jason!” he called after him as he climbed to his feet, finally moving to strip out of his suit.   
  
Jason froze in a comical manner, his eyes wide, borderline horrified. “I’ll be good, Boss!  Promise!”   
  
“No running.  Go get ready for bed.  I’ll be up soon.” Bruce waved his ward off, pulling the suit down his torso.   
  
“You got it, Boss!” with that, Jason disappeared, leaving Bruce to smile to himself as he prepared to join him.


	5. Jefferson, Grace

“Daddy!  Look what I made you!” Grace called as she entered Jefferson’s mansion, back from school.   
  
It had been weeks since she’d returned to him. Decades of waiting made her return seem to surreal, still made him wonder if he was living in some form of waking dream or was the victim of some cruel spell.  Every time he touched his daughter was like a gift, water to a man who had been lost in a desert, thus he set aside what he’d been doing and moved to meet her.  He crouched down, wrapping her in his arms and letting himself feel the reality, the warmth of her, and it soothed him in a way nothing else could and nothing else ever would again.  
  
Drawing back, Jefferson smiled at his daughter, brushing her hair out of her face. “Show me?”   
  
Smiling brightly, her face filled with joy, she drew back and removed her rummaged in her bag, drawing out a small box. “I made this for you!”   
  
Jefferson took the box from her hands, his expression softening immediately and his chest swelling with happiness.  It was a simple thing, just a little box that his daughter had decorated with little pictures of rabbits and hearts, something tiny and, seemingly, insignificant, but to him it was more valuable than all the treasure in their world.  Smiling brightly he leaned in and pressed a loving, lingering kiss to Grace’s forehead, drawing her forward once more just to feel her safe, alive, and with him once more.  
  
“Thank you, Sweetheart.  I love it.” Jefferson murmured, just taking a moment to close his eyes and focus on his reality.   
  
“We can put tea leaves in it!  For our parties?” Grace questioned, drawing back to beam at him,so full of life and excitement.   
  
“Of course.  Anything you want, Grace.  Anything at all.” Jefferson murmured, gently stroking her hair.   
  
“I never want you to go away, Daddy.” Grace admitted, biting her lip.   
  
Jefferson faltered before offering her a reassuring smile, gently squeezing her shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere, Grace.”   
  
Grace smiled brightly, moving to take her father’s hand as he climbed to his feet. “That’s all I want, Daddy.”


	6. JayDami

Damian was exhausted, completely spent from hours of rigorous training, losing himself in the feel of his body, in focusing on form and routine, until everything else disappeared.  He didn’t want to think about calloused hands and gun oil, didn’t want to think of the miles of separation or the months without contact.  Instead of lost himself in the normalcy of training and patrol, forcing himself not to think about dark hair and seafoam eyes, about autopsy scars and faded burn marks.  However his peace of mind was suddenly disrupted when a towel draped itself over his head, resulting in a frustrated snarl as he turned his head, mouth open in preparation of a retort.  
  
Jason was lurking in the shadows of the cave, leaning heavily against the wall of the training area, keeping himself out of sight.  Damian paused, conflicted, warring with his pride before he slowly lowered his towel and climbed to his feet, lips pressing together in a thin line.  He could already tell that the other man wasn’t in the best of shape, that he wasn’t posing, but he hated that it made his chest tight with worry, quickly pushing such thoughts aside.   
  
“Tt.  Todd.  I should have known.” Damian muttered, moving to drape the towel over a bench casually.   
  
“Good to see you too, Baby Bat.” Jason answered, his lips quirking in a familiar smirk that had Damian’s pulse speeding up ever so slightly.  
  
“I’m surprised to see you here.” Damian admitted, hesitating before taking a few steps towards the other man.   
  
“Just stoppin in before heading to the safe house.” Jason answered, shrugging his shoulders; the move was careful, as if there was an unseen injury to the other man’s back or shoulder.  
  
“If you can make it there.” Damian muttered, heaving a sigh, finally closing the distance between them, tugging at the older man’s leather jacket. “Show me.”  
  
“Already patched up, Damian.” Jason murmured and, this close, Damian could see the lines of strain on his face, the tension in his jaw; he was in pain just from standing there.  
  
“It’s obviously serious.  Let me see.” Damian insisted, eyes narrow and determined.   
  
Jason heaved a sigh, moving to slowly push away from the wall, brows furrowing before he held his arms out. “You’ll have to help me take my jacket off.”  
  
Damian swallowed thickly; that wasn’t a good sign.  Reaching out he gently eased the other man out of his jacket before impatiently pushing up his shirt, sucking in a quick breath when he saw the bandages that covered the other man’s torso.  It wasn’t some simple injury to require so many bandages, and the spots of red that had seeped through the gauze weren’t good either; it had been bad.   
  
“I’m already mostly healed.” Jason murmured, voice quiet, but still drawing Damian’s attention.  “It was worse.”   
  
Damian dropped the shirt abruptly, reaching up to brush his fingers over Jason’s face before leaning in and pressing their mouths together.  It was good after so long, amazing, and Jason’s scrape with death simply made it better, the kiss languid but electric.  However the kiss broke when the older man wavered, losing his balance, causing Damian’s hands to shoot out and grip his upper arms, supporting him, concern rolling through him.   
  
“Come.  I’ll take you upstairs.” Damian murmured, already moving to slide a supportive arm around Jason’s lower back, avoiding the wound.  
  
“Damian—”   
  
“Jason.  You need to rest.”   
  
Jason sighed and sagged against him a little, nodding. “Fine, Brat.  If you insist.”  
  
“This is your fault.  Being reckless again.” Damian muttered, leading him to the stairs.   
  
“Missed you too.” Jason murmured, amusement in his tone.  
  
“Tt.” Damian muttered, lips curving a little; if Jason was well enough to tease, then everything would be fine.   


	7. BillyTeddyTommy

For once Tommy was sitting still, not fidgeting, at least not a lot, and, surprisingly, paying attention to the movie they were watching.  He was leaning against Teddy, head on the shapeshifter’s shoulder, though it had taken none-too-little coaxing from both Teddy and Billy to get it there.  Billy was sprawled across both of them, facing away from the television, his face buried against Tommy’s stomach as he slept, his entire form relaxed.    
  
Teddy didn’t think Tommy realized that his fingers were toying with Billy’s dark hair, but it was relieving to see it.  It had taken so long to convince the speedster that no, they weren’t just going to use him and leave him and, no, they weren’t just pulling him into their relationship out of pity.  It had taken even longer for the teen to accept any form of affection, going stiff an embarrassed any time either Billy or Teddy hugged or touched him.  Thus the fact that they were sitting the way they were, casually touching, was a sign of huge progress.  
  
As casually as he could, Teddy shifted a little, wrapping his arm around Tommy’s shoulder and gently drawing him closer.  He felt the speedster stiffen and paused, loosening his hold on his shoulder for a moment in case he wanted to pull away.  However he was surprised when Tommy took a deep breath and leaned into the hold, his head turning slightly to rest against the larger teen’s shoulder.  Teddy smiled and gently rubbed the speedster’s shoulder, pleased that Tommy was coming to accept that they wouldn’t hurt him, that they both wanted him as much as they wanted each other.  
  
“He pulled an all-nighter for a paper.” Teddy murmured, continuing to gently stroke Tommy’s shoulder, leaning his head on the speedster’s to peer down at Billy.  “You okay, Tommy?”   
  
“Yeah.  I’m good.” Tommy muttered, eyes lowered to stare at Billy, his hands frozen, before he gently stroked the teen’s hair.  
  
Teddy smiled, twisting his head to press a gentle kiss to Tommy’s hair, his free hand moving to rest on Billy’s thigh.  They were like two sides of the the same coin, similar and yet so different, and he craved them both equally.  Obviously it hadn’t started that way, but, as time went on, things slowly changed between all of them, brought them closer and, well, Teddy wouldn’t have changed a thing.  Tommy was the damaged, skittish one, but that did the opposite of deter him from openly showing his affections.  No, he simply made sure that he gave the speedster everything he could, holding him, touching him, kissing him, and let the other teen decide whether or not to accept it.   
  
“Ted.” Tommy murmured, his eyes still fixed on Billy. “Do you ever regret bringing me—”   
  
“No.” Teddy quickly interjected, squeezing Tommy’s shoulder.   
  
“But, I mean—”   
  
“No.”  
  
They fell silent for a long moment before Tommy sighed. “Must get tiring dealing with all my shit.”   
  
“Nah.  You and Billy?  You’re worth it.” Teddy murmured, pressing another kiss to Tommy’s white hair.   
  
“Ted…” Tommy lifted his head slightly, twisting it to press their mouths together; he was bad with words, but Teddy understood what he was trying to say anyways: _Thank you_.


	8. JayTim

Jason had never really had a reason to celebrate Valentine’s day.  Typically he was too busy with other things, too busy with the fucked up world around them to even think of a relationship, let alone spending a day with someone.  However he should have known that Tim would remember, that he would be the one to remind him in the most subtle of ways.   
  
His eyes flutter when the smell of something sweet and rich fills his nostrils, his head turning slightly, resting on his folded arms, peering blearily at the bedside table.  It’s dark, but he can make out the tray, the steam, and the smells he detects finally register as chocolate and strawberry mixed with something subtle and herbal.  Frowning, Jason rolls onto his side and pushes himself up, reaching up for the steaming cup on the tray, hesitating for a moment before glancing behind him, noting the rumpled sheets on the other side of the bed, the lack of a certain warm body.  Snorting he took the cup, noting that there was already milk and sugar in it, probably the exact right amount too, something that made Jason’s lips quirk a little.   
  
Jason sat up, taking a sip of the beverage and let out a soft groan of pleasure; it was a good blend, whatever it was, and it was still hot, the warmth spreading through his entire form.  He then glanced over at the tray again, noting the tiny, dark scones that covered a small plate and a neatly folded note perched behind them.  Reaching out he took the note and flipped it open, still sipping his tea, reading over the neat script that he recognized as Tim’s handwriting.   
  
_Jason, I had to go do some work at Wayne Enterprises.  You don’t have to wait for me, I know you probably have things to do, but I hope you like the tea.  Be careful._  
  
Jason ran his fingers over the edge of the paper, eyes heavy lidded, before he glanced at his phone and his helmet, then back to the note.  He could go out and be a vigilante, he could go and strike fear and into the hearts of assholes and all that, or he could stay in bed for a day, take some time away from everything in Tim’s penthouse.  Lips quirking a little he set the note aside and shifted, scooting back to lean back against the headboard of Tim’s sizeable bed, taking the time to enjoy his tea, reaching out to snag one of the chocolate scones as well; damn Tim knowing that Jason enjoyed the finer things in life.  
  
—-  
  
When Tim returned home, the apartment was silent, something that made his heart sink a little.  In retrospect, he should maybe not have done something so silly, something even vaguely romantic, he should have known that it would have caused the older man to leave.  He was, in fact so engrossed with his disappointment that he tripped over a familiar pair of boots, stumbling, eyes wide, before he glanced down at said boots in shock.  However the shock faded and his expression softened, his eyes shooting to the closed bedroom door as he quickly removed and tossed aside his suit jacket.  
  
He opened the door, remaining as quiet as possible as he loosened his tie, and smiled fondly when he spotted Jason, curled up on his side of the bed, hair sticking out at odd angles, asleep.  Tim bit his lip to keep from laughing as he tossed his tie aside, moving over to the bedside table, noting that the plate and cup were both empty. He undressed as quickly and silently as possible before slipping into bed as well, taking a moment to brush his fingers over Jason’s scarred back, marveling that he’d stayed.  Then again he supposed that Jason had always been good at getting the things that counted right.  Jason wasn’t good at giving gifts or remembering holidays, but him staying, him choosing to linger for an extra day, was one of the greatest gifts Tim could ask for.     


	9. BruJay

He remembers pain and heat, remembers gunfire and water, along with thick arms and a familiar, panicked voice.  It’s a spotty memory, one that he mentally scrambles to piece together as he slowly begins to regain consciousness, taking note of various sensations and sounds.  He’s in a bed, he can tell that from how plush the surface he was lying on feels.  He also knows that he’s hooked up to a heart-rate monitor as he can hear it beeping softly, but other than that, there’s no sound, only his own breathing.    
  
Jason allowed his eyes to flutter open, staring up at the ceiling, noting that the room was dark; it was either the same night, or he’d been out for close to twenty four hours.  Considering his what he could recall from his spotty memory, he was betting on the latter, something which made him grimace.  Slowly he turned his head, peering around the room, a sense of familiarity washing over him when he noticed the layout, saw familiar shapes in wood grains.  His entire form went tense, pulse speeding a little as events from the night before came rushing back; why was he in the manor and not in some hospital handcuffed to a bed… Besides the fact that he could have jimmied the cuffs in his sleep.  
  
However being in the manor is nothing compared to the low, deep, familiar voice that drifted from a dark corner of the room. “Jason.”   
  
Jason slumps and closes his eyes, mentally cursing himself for being too reckless, for going in without all the details, for being stupid enough to end up at Bruce’s mercy.  Then again he supposed that he could have been at the mercy of some thug, could have been dead, but he wasn’t certain if those were really worse options all things considered.  After all, physical pain, sensation, and action were all so much easier to deal with than emotions, especially his were steeped in years of bitterness.  
  
A large hand brushes over his forehead, smoothing his hair back from his face, causing Jason to turn his face away; he isn’t prepared for gentle, isn’t equipped to deal with anger and dismissal. “How do you feel?”   
  
“Peachy.” Jason muttered, his voice rough.  
  
Bruce was silent for a while, something Jason didn’t mind, but he wished he could just make his former mentor leave. “If I had been a few seconds later, you would be dead.”  
  
Jason snorts, shoving aside the twist of cold fear it caused. “Been there before.  Service sucks.”   
  
“Jason.” Bruce’s voice is low, warmth born of passion creeping into it. “I won’t let you die again.”  
  
“Ah, there’s that good ol self-imposed guilt again—”  
  
“Jason—”   
  
“I’m tired of your martyr bullshit.  If you just want to spout that shit at me again, just leave so I can sleep.” Jason muttered.  
  
Bruce lets out a slow, controlled breath, that sound alone making the younger man grimace.  “I wanted to tell you… What was between us… Before.  It hasn’t changed.  It won’t.”  
  
Jason opens his eyes then, feeling his gut clench painfully. “I’m not that kid anymore—”  
  
“No.” Bruce’s face suddenly fills his field of vision. “But you’re still Jason.”  
  
He wonders which of them is more fucked up: Bruce for kissing him or himself for letting it happen, for not pulling away, even responding.  Jason still remembers the feel of Bruce’s mouth against his, the sensation familiar and intimate, draining the fight out of him just like it used to when he was too young to care about the future.  Before he’d died he’d been a spontaneous person, someone who lived each moment like they were his last, but he’d become even more jaded and had adopted more traits from Bruce than he’d realized.   
  
When Bruce pulled away, Jason’s eyes fluttered open,staring at the older man as he drew back, looking torn.  There was the weight of stolen kisses and youthful enthusiasm hanging between them like a corpse, but that didn’t change the fact that Bruce still called to him like a siren song.  It took the older man obvious effort to turn away from him and head towards the door to his room, leaving Jason feeling raw and confused, pausing only to glance back briefly.   
  
“…Get some rest.” Bruce murmured, before slipping out the door.   
  
Jason didn’t respond, still too fixated on the silent ‘I still love you’ that had passed between them.


	10. ColinDamian

Over the years the gates of the orphanage had become familiar, along with the cacophony of children playing.  Colin was always on that same, weather-worn bench, observing but never really joining, something which tugged at something in him.  He approached and called out the boy’s name, watching the way the redhead lit up and immediately rushed over, smiling brightly even as his hands curled around the bars of the gate.   
  
“Hey, Damian!” Colin was all friendly smiles, cheeks a little flushed from the Gotham chill. “Happy Valentine’s!”   
  
Damian blinked at him, looking startled before letting out a soft ‘Tt’. “I can’t believe you celebrate such a silly holiday.”  
  
Colin tilted his head before laughing, used to the other teen’s moods. “Yeah, well, there’s all the chocolate and candy and stuff, you know.”   
  
Damian’s brows furrowed before he rolled his eyes and gestured for Colin to come with him. “Let’s go.  Unless you want to stay and celebrate this silly holiday?”   
  
It took a few minutes before the teen could slip away, but soon they were walking away from the orphanage, down familiar streets and pas familiar alleys.  Colin was unusually quiet, sneaking looks at Damian that were less than subtle, but Damian was content to let the silence linger, to simply be in the presence of one of the few people he considered a friend.  However as they rounded another corner, slipping down a back alley, Damian felt a gentle, hesitant tug at his sleeve, blinking at the oddly sober, shy look on his friend’s face.   
  
“Is something wrong?” Damian questioned immediately, brows furrowing.   
  
“What?  Oh, no, nothing’s wrong.” Colin insisted, offering a small, reassuring smile. “I just.  Well.  We’ve known each other for a while, right?”  
  
Damian frowned, turning to face the red head, folding his arms across his chest. “Years, yes.”  
  
“I, uh.  If I tell you something, can you promise not to hate me?” Colin questioned, his expression serious, almost worried.   
  
“Considering your morals I doubt anything you could inform me of would upset me to that degree.” Damian answered, looking perplexed.   
  
“I just, um, sorry this is hard, I—” Colin heaved a sigh before his lips pressed together, a look of determination crossing his features. “Screw this.”  
  
Damian was startled by the outburst, looking confused before his eyes widened when the teen’s hands fisted in his shirt and pulled him forward.  “Col—”  
  
He was cut off abruptly by the press of lips against his own, his entire form going rigid, his eyes wide before he slowly relaxed, his hands moving to curl around Colin’s wrists, just holding.  Hesitantly Damian returned the kiss, causing a momentary pause before Colin recovered, his hands moving from Damian’s jacket to his neck and throat, then to his hair.  After a few moments they drew back, their eyes heavy-lidded before Colin’s went wide and his cheeks flushed even darker, apparently shocked by his own actions along with the results.   
  
“I-I, um… That was what I wanted to tell you.” the redhead, stammered out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to just—”  
  
“Tt.  Idiot.” Damian murmured, looking amused before he leaned in and kissed his friend again, tugging him closer; if there was one person he could trust with anything, with all of him, he knew it would be Colin. 


	11. JayDick

Valentine’s day was one of the holidays that Dick really went all-out on.  Every gift he gave was intimate and well-thought out, better than those he gave on birthdays and even Christmas at times.  Jason, on the other hand, had a tendency to forget the holiday until the last minute and got him something silly or generic, something that never failed to make the younger man feel guilty.  However that year, he decided to be a little different, he decided that he wanted to actually do something, wanted to be a decent boyfriend for once… Not that it was easy.  
  
Dick had everything he wanted.  Buying him something was nearly impossible as he simply got it for himself when he actually wanted something.  Never mind that when it came to clothing the acrobat was impossible to shop for, mainly due to his… Unique sense of fashion.  Chocolates were appreciated but stereotypical, also completely not Jason’s style, and flowers were just ridiculous, which didn’t really leave much in the way of ‘romantic’ gifts.  
  
When he dropped down into Dick’s fire escape, his boyfriend was already there, looking sweaty and flushed; he’d probably been training.  Jason caught himself staring at how gorgeous he looked, his hair tousled, his tank top clinging to the muscles of his torso, the light from inside giving his face dramatic highlight and shadows.  Dick was smiling at him, looking amused at his silence, which made Jason snort and climb down, shrugging out of his jacket, immediately draping it around the acrobat’s shoulders.   
  
“You’re gonna freeze your ass off, Dickie-bird.” Jason muttered, keeping his eyes on where he was adjusting the jacket.   
  
“Happy Valentine’s, Jaybird.” Dick responded, looking amused still, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Jason’s mouth.  
  
“Yeah…” he answered, averting his eyes, shoulders slumping a little. “Look, I know I’m not that great at this whole… Relationship thing.”   
  
“Jay—” Dick begins, reaching up to grip Jason’s hands, but the younger man quickly shook his head.   
  
“Let me finish.” Jason continued, glancing aside. “Look, you’ve got everything you want or need or whatever.  That’s why I’m giving you this.  For… When I’m not here.  Okay?”  
  
Dick looks confused before looking down at what Jason’s hands, still gripping his jacket, his eyes going wide. “But, Jay—”   
  
“Hey, no.” Jason muttered, looking determined.  “It’s old and patched up in places and probably a little big but I want you to have it okay?  
  
Dick stared at him before offering a warm, tender smile, moving his hands to run his fingers over Jason’s face, his throat working as he swallowed. “Okay, Jay.  Thank you.”  
  
Jason snorted, glancing aside. “It-s just a—”   
  
“It’s your jacket, Jay.  Your favorite jacket.” Dick murmured, the look on his face making Jason’s chest ache. “You’ve kinda outclassed me in the gift department this year.”  
  
Jason blinked before his lips curved in a small smile. “Finally.”  
  
Dick smiled at that before leaning in to kiss him, his hands tangling in Jason’s hair.  It was slow and full of silent admissions, full of things that Jason still had problems saying but Dick still understood.  It was full of acceptance and love and, really, that was all that Jason wanted.  Being in love with Dick Grayson was a warm, wonderful thing, and, despite what Dick thought, he gave the greatest gift every year: loving him back.


	12. DickRoy

It’s always late when Dick gets home.  Roy’s already tucked in Lian, done research on a case, showered, and finally succumbed to sleep before his lover slips into the apartment.  He stirs when he feels his bed dip a little, eyes scrunching shut before he twists, peering over his shoulder as Dick slips into bed beside him, offering him a weary smile.  Heaving a soft sigh, Roy rolls and lifts and arm, offering to let the man nestle against him despite his grouchiness over being woken up.  As predicted, Dick scoots forward and tucks his nose beneath Roy’s chin, nuzzling a little before he settles, exhausted from the horrific schedule he’d been keeping.   
  
“Gonna kill yourself like this.” Roy mutters, his eyes fluttering shut, calloused fingers tracing over Dick’s side absently.  
  
“Mmm.” Dick responds, obviously half-asleep already; he didn’t get much sleep, but that didn’t mean that the other man had any issues getting to sleep.   
  
“You’re taking the rest of today off.” Roy muttered, his hold turning possessive as his fingers curled around Dick’s hip bone.   
  
“Hadn’t ‘tended to...” Dick breathed against his neck, rubbing his nose against Roy’s throat.   
  
“That’s an order.  It’s one of your favorite fucking holidays.” Roy muttered, tilting his head slightly, trying to escape his boyfriend’s nose. “Stop that.”  
  
“Tryin’ to bully me into a day off.  I can do what I want.” Dick muttered, letting out a soft huff of laughter against Roy’s throat.   
  
“Yeah, well, if I have to tie you to the bed, I will.” Roy muttered, sliding his hand slowly up Dick’s back, tracing each vertebrae.   
  
“Kinky.” Dick muttered before sighing and pulling back, his eyes heavy-lidded from weariness. “If you really want me to though, I will.”   
  
Roy relaxes a little, letting his hand slide up the back of Dick’s neck, gently rubbing the tense muscles he found there.  Dick immediately leans into the touch with a soft moan and, despite how tired he is, it still makes his mouth a little dry, even as he smiles.  There wasn’t a day that went by that he marveled at the fact that Dick had stayed with him, that they were still together, despite everything.  It would be nice to take a day and just be with Dick, show him how much everything the other man did for Roy meant.  He didn’t care if he had to do a bit of gentle bullying to get what he wanted either.   
  
“Lian will make you cookies.  She’s been wanting to.” Roy murmured, gently stroking his lover’s scalp.   
  
Dick hummed in pleasure, his eyes fluttering open, the blue of his eyes barely visible. “Now I have to stay.”   
  
“Exactly.” Roy breathed, smiling, before leaning in to press their lips together briefly. “Thank you.”   
  
Dick hummed again, obviously pleased and enjoying the attention. “It’s not that hard to get me to take a day off.  I’m not Batman.”   
  
“I know.  I meant... For everything.” Roy slid his hand back down, his hand gently stroking over hard planes of muscle.   
  
Dick smiled at him, his expression full of warmth and weariness. “You’re welcome.”


End file.
